


The Only Exception

by suyari



Category: Young Avengers
Genre: M/M, Sexual Fantasy, Vouyerism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-02
Updated: 2013-11-02
Packaged: 2017-12-31 05:57:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1028073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suyari/pseuds/suyari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes living in the same house is the hardest part of being left out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Only Exception

**Author's Note:**

> For [this](http://cris-art.tumblr.com/post/16278813613/frustrated) beautiful pic of Cris'. Be careful it is NSFW!!!
> 
> Disclaimer: Despite my deepest wishes the Young Avengers do not belong to me, and so I can only borrow them.

There was nothing like a mission full of danger and near misses to get the blood going. But it was the ones where the misses were too near, where someone almost _died_ that made it a team issue. Tommy wasn't sure how everyone dealt with the sudden need to reaffirm life, but there was no escaping the way Billy and Teddy reacted to it.

Living in the same house meant there were plenty of run ins with things better left private for all. For the most part, it meant a moment or two of embarrassment, a healthy dose of next day awkward, and then it was never thought of or mentioned again. And then there were the times that haunted. Times, not so different from Tommy's current dilemma.

It wasn't that the walls were particularly thin or that Billy and Teddy were particularly loud. It was the fact that Tommy - being Billy's brother - had the room next to Billy's, where Teddy's was all the way down the hall. Not only were their rooms side by side, but they were functionally connecting - a fact Billy's mother had found wonderfully appropriate for separated twins. Generally, neither of them minded. Sometimes after particularly bad missions or just random urges they couldn't explain, they kept it open. When the door was open, they could see one another's beds. On the far end of their respective rooms, against the longest walls. It was comforting on those nights. Being able to see the lump that was Billy beneath his covers. Hear him move, and witness his restlessness as the sheets shifted, rose and fell. On most nights though, they left it closed, and knocked if they needed something. During the day Tommy rarely knocked, using the door - much to Billy's dismay - as often as necessary. And while he awarded Billy the same courtesy, Billy rarely didn't knock.

Because they all lived in the same house, with Billy's parents and younger brothers, Teddy and Billy never had enough time to actually get up to anything. More over, neither of them really dared to disobey the house rules, which Tommy thought was stupid of them, but was their own problem. So it wasn't all that often they would get up to anything in the house. Which was reassuring, because they sure got into enough of it everywhere else.

On nights like this however, they _dared_. Tommy figured, the connection meant more to them than any trouble they'd get into over getting caught. Which was good for them, but hell on Tommy.

Sometimes it was only little things. The smack of a too deep kiss or the distinctive sound of connecting flesh. Billy's bed for the most part didn't creak, but the sheets rumpled very loudly. And sound carried.

It particularly liked to carry through the door and into Tommy's room.

Moans. Groans. Professions of love and everything in between.

Tommy figured for someone who say, grew up with their twin, it very likely would have been an instant turn off. Knowing too much about someone, being too close could make it downright nauseating. Or so he told himself. _Normal_ people didn't get turned on when they heard their brother having sex in the next room. _Normal_ people didn't close their eyes and imagine they were a part of the happenings. _Normal_ people didn't do their best to keep up, follow along, come at just the right moment.

But Tommy wasn't normal. He never had been and he had no plans to ever be. So it wasn't all that much of a problem. Especially if Billy and Teddy never found out.

Sometimes he wasn't sure which he preferred to be. Visualizing himself in Billy's place was laughably easy. The only thing he had to change was the hair color and voilà! Instant picture. Hands braced against the nearest available surface, Teddy's hands on his hips. Or both arms and legs wrapped all around the blond, back arched as he was penetrated faster and harder and deeper. Picturing himself in Teddy's place sometimes brought questions even he couldn't answer himself. But often enough, it produced a better orgasm. Perhaps it was because he knew every inch of his own body and again, the visual didn't even need conjuring, just adjusting. Perhaps it was because he'd seen Billy's pleasure on his face before and so he knew what image went there. He didn't really delve into any deeper possibilities, because they didn't merit consideration.

In any case, either way was simple. Routine. It wasn't until he actually began to mentally fit himself into them that things started to get complicated. He'd seen porn, he knew how it worked. It was the emotional bit he didn't get. Porn skipped right over that, even the good, "real" feelings type. Tommy didn't know how to interpret someone looking at him in any way he hadn't already seen. And while he had experience with a whole range of looks, from genuine loathing and disgust, to fear, to admiration, and yes, even lust, no one had ever even glanced in his direction with a _fraction_ of what was there between Billy and Teddy. Tommy didn't know how to even go about beginning to try and explain it, which made it impossible to really understand.

Because no one had ever looked at him the way Teddy and Billy looked at each other, it made imagining how that look intensified incomprehensible. How it would react under the act of pleasuring one another. How it evolved after the fact. Which meant he certainly could never imagine it in either's place, let alone superimpose it to fit himself.

Which never failed to leave a terrible yearning in his chest. It was always there, maybe it had always been there. But there had been no cause to realize it before. Now, it was everywhere and not even he - with all his speed - could escape it. It wasn't even jealousy. Jealousy didn't even rate. It was like a hole had been torn open in his chest, and all the witty remarks and sharp comments in the world couldn't stem the expansion.

On nights like this, when being alive needed meaning, Tommy found himself at a complete and utter loss. His life had never meant much to anyone before the team. For a while it hadn't meant much to them either. Even as he knew they cared about him...as much as he joked about it and irritated Eli with his advances towards Kate...he knew. He knew deep inside that he was the odd one out. Everyone else fit together so nicely. They understood one another and could give each other what they needed. Tommy couldn't do that.

There was something _missing_ in him. Something _vital_. Something that everyone else had, that made it possible for them to show sparks, sometimes even gleams or reflections of what Billy and Teddy had. Like watching movie previews. As often as it happened though, it was never for him. And while he wasn't bitter about it, it made nights like this all the worse.

He tried so hard, he always does, but he never manages to stop himself. The fact that he feels...he doesn't quite know how he feels about it, but it leaves the hole that much more empty by the end. Still, his need is just as great as any of theirs. More so even, because he won't be sharing the moment with anyone.

The "little death" that brings with it such a feeling of life. A brief, high point in an endless sea of dark and loneliness. Of being lost, and wanting...what he knows he'll never have.

It was nights like this, he tried to stay out, but always managed to arrive home at just the right time. When everyone was in bed asleep and Teddy and Billy had made special arrangements. Tommy always made it into his room once things had started really going. Faster, deeper, mutual moaning and the quiet jerking of the mattress against the frame. And always, always, he's out of his uniform - only as much as needs removing - before he can even process what's happening. Pressed flat against the wall beside the door, listening and moving and trying not to be left behind. Ridiculous as it is, with his abilities, it's still a fear that grips him so tightly it seizes his chest every single time. Forces his strength from him until he's slid down to the floor. But it's never mindless, it's never uncoordinated. Always, always he has to fit. Has to _somehow_ make it work. Biting his lip so he won't make any sounds, inhaling deeply as often as he can, releasing short pants accompanied by clenched teeth to keep him from speaking. For all his strength and speed, his hips always hurt. The angle, the wait, the desperation, he never knows, but something always weighs him down until his _bones_ are aching. It's always too fast, and he's always too slow, and his mind is busy crying out the things he will never ever let himself say, and only ever think during the act because he has no control over it.

They're getting closer. They're going to come. On nights like this it's so very easy for them to do it together, as if they've synchronized the process. Practiced and perfected the art of it so that they never miss it, never leave each other behind. They reach that all consuming affirmation _together_ the way they were _meant_ to. And Tommy...Tommy tries, he always tries, but he never can quite get the timing just right. Even when he's doing his best to be a part of things, he's still outcast.

Not that he ever expects anything to come of it. He knows he'll never have what they have. Most especially he knows he will never be a part of what they have, small and insignificant as he is in relation to it. Even being Billy's twin. But Billy was fine before him and he will be fine after him. And Teddy's only real need of him was one brief moment early in his heroing career when the team was short and needed help; even then Teddy had never particularly required his participation, the team had.

More than anything, he hates the feeling of self loathing that accompanies his release. Sits and catches his breath, covered in his own abandon, and feeling the hole grow by half. It always takes too long to get up, but he manages. Wipes at his mouth with a shaking hand, all too often covered in some fluid he'd rather not think about. The bathroom is across the hall, so he takes his shower. It isn't like he needs to hear them say it, he knows. They all know.

In the soft aftermath, caressing and embracing, murmuring 'I love you' like it's the most powerful statement on Earth. Who needs to hear 'I love you' anyway? Certainly not Tommy.


End file.
